


Foxglove

by seiyuna



Category: Hunter X Hunter, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiyuna/pseuds/seiyuna
Summary: It’s the roses, Kuroro thinks, and not the fact that Kurapika’s suitor is a seven-foot-tall fox demon with a propensity for stealing other people’s love interests.





	Foxglove

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Thea!

 

Deep within the sanctuaries of the Kakin Empire, the Ring of Huxian was said to be preserved inside the central shrine. An artifact of power, the ring had been out of public sight for years—people deigned to believe it even existed—until the recent coronation of Prince Woble Hui Guo Rou. 

The former King amassed treasures in such excess that they gathered dust and remained untouched in a multitude of bedchambers; and when Prince Woble rose to power, Queen Oito chose to distribute the imperial collection across museums and shrines to give it another life. 

Given his unexpected involvement with the succession war, Kuroro could have requested this as part of his compensation, but the ring was no ordinary artifact and certainly not the kind that should fall into the wrong hands. But after perusing through ancient texts in Kakin’s libraries and eavesdropping on conversations from hopeful tourists, he learned of this:

_Should the possessor of the Ring bestow it upon another, love shall prosper between them both._

It was a charming story—so unbelievable that it could have belonged in a romance comic. He had heard of the Kakin Empire housing spiritual artifacts, some even possessing otherworldly power. There were wish-fulfilling jewels that radiated light in the darkness, gilded valuables that were said to have apotropaic qualities and even lengthened the lifespans of those who possessed them. He had to come see them himself.

According to his sources, the ring should have been displayed right here, where he stood before a fox statue with a crimson votive bib around its neck. Several of these statues stood proudly within and outside of the shrine, all of them holding ritual items in their mouths and beneath their front paws. Some bore luminous jewels between their jaws, while others held sheaves of rice in a symbolic display of what their deity was worshiped for. 

It was highly unlikely that his sources were wrong, but—

There was nothing here. 

Not even a replica.

The fox statue simply bared its teeth at Kuroro, mouth entirely empty. And he had the sudden, unpleasant realization that he may have stepped into a trap. 

Kuroro’s presence was a foreign thing on these grounds, where only shrine attendants were permitted this far to venerate their idols and perform sacred cleansings. Most visitors remained near the entrance of the shrine, but here he was, alone in the wooden dwelling. The circular window cut into the wall framed the cultivated scenery of the imperial gardens, inviting the summer breeze inside. All he could hear were the chirps of birds and songs of glass wind chimes.

He stood rather still, regarding the round mirror on the altar. The surface reflected nothing aside from his own reflection. It seemed odd that worshipers looked at their own reflections when praying to their deities, but he read of stories where mirrors acted as a barrier between the physical and spiritual worlds. 

Perhaps if he stared long enough, he could climb through the looking glass like Alice in Wonderland. He huffed a quiet laugh to himself. 

The breeze rushed across the shrine grounds, rustling the trees and swaying the branches. A flower petal drifted in from the outside, landing by his feet, and then—

His surroundings flickered with a peculiar energy, simmering beneath the wood and earth. It didn’t so much as knock him off-balance, but it raised an uneasiness over his skin, making him suppress the slightest of shivers.

“The shrine is closed today.”

 Kuroro breathed in and turned around to face the source of the voice. He had neither felt the stranger's approach, nor heard their footsteps—oddly enough, he didn’t even catch a second reflection in the mirror.

“I apologize, Miss. I must have gotten lost,” Kuroro answered politely. He gave an apologetic smile, one that never failed him. “But you wouldn’t have heard of any relics around here, have you?”

The stranger was certainly eye-catching. A waterfall of red hair cascaded over their back—the same color as the gates arching over the entrance of the shrine. They were also around Kurapika’s age, Kuroro thought, but this was the first time he had ever seen them. They didn’t seem to be affiliated with Kakin, when they were dressed in casual clothes instead of shrine attire or even Kakin’s traditional garments.

The wind picked up again, fluttering red hair around their face. Kuroro’s response seemed to sour the atmosphere, because the stranger stared at him with measured blankness, then pulled their gaze away.

“You mean this one?”

Between their fingers, they held up a ring, considering it in the sunlight. The band glinted silver with two crimson jewels in the center—and that seemed to fit the description of what Kuroro was searching for.

“I suppose it was worth coming for,” the stranger continued to say. “It’s well-crafted, though I wouldn’t have expected something so small and dainty to belong to a deity.”

Kuroro blinked for a moment, confused by the response. “You don’t work here?”

“Not at all,” the stranger said with nonchalance, approaching the altar and placing a gift bag in front of the fox statue. Then, they began to lay out a bottle of sake and an open box of inarizushi on the ground, carefully and reverently. “I’m just leaving a few things in exchange.”

Kuroro opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the proper words. He found himself perplexed at the situation—he was being stolen from? Him?

All he did in that one frozen moment was stare in disbelief. There was an air of calm confidence to the stranger as their back was turned to him, and surprisingly, it didn’t come off as reckless at all. 

As Kuroro strove to move, his feet resisted. His breath caught at the realization that vines sprouted silently from the wooden floor, entangling and stretching and growing over his feet. An age-old power surged through the greenery, breathing life to the ancient sanctuary. Kuroro retained mobility in his hands, but it was difficult to overcome his initial astonishment and actually _do something_.

As the stranger pocketed the ring and headed towards the door, Kuroro was spared one last glance. Something shone in those eyes, the color of polished emeralds and verdant overgrowth. “By the way, I’m a man.”

Déjà vu struck him. 

“Oh.”

 

 

 

When Kuroro was a passenger on the Black Whale, far removed from civilization, the world had lacked most of its experienced Nen users with most of the Hunter Association also on board. It was during this time that a barrier between their world and an inconceivable Demon World had been lifted, allowing demons to reveal their presence to humans and establish peaceful connections with their world.

The existence of another realm would have been unfathomable if not for the Chimera Ant invasion several months prior, or the calamities deriving from the Dark Continent. Human life seemed to be at significant risk during their voyage, although during this time of transition, the Demon World sent human-presenting emissaries to the Human World to assist with their peaceful causes. After their efforts to overcome social barriers, it wasn’t as surprising anymore to find demons intermingling with humans on the streets and interacting with them on television.

Kuroro could distinguish them from the kind of energy they radiated. It wasn’t necessarily dangerous, but something foreign. Something that had the potential to be potent and could be harnessed to do wicked things, but instead was suppressed by demons as they assimilated into human society. Out of misplaced curiosity, he wished to see what kind of powers their aura could manifest into, and if he could one day possess these abilities as his own.

But the stranger from the other day? Kuroro couldn’t tell what he was. His aura wasn’t like anything he had ever felt before, and Kuroro didn’t have a second chance to confront him before he vanished from the shrine grounds.

Using an old Hunter license he purchased off the market, Kuroro accessed the Hunter-exclusive website at one of Kakin’s libraries. He sat in a cubicle in front of one of the computers, perusing through the profiles of recently licensed Hunters for that familiar face. 

After a few hours of mindless clicking and scrolling through webpages, he eliminated the possibility that the stranger was a Hunter. But someone who possessed that kind of aura couldn’t have possibly been an ordinary civilian. Sure, Kuroro couldn't believe his delayed reaction to the plant trap, was mildly annoyed at the fact he left the place empty-handed, but that compelled him even more to find out the identity of this thief.

He logged off of the website and shifted to a different approach. There had been no news of Kakin artifacts being stolen in recent weeks—a testament to how well the Empire had guarded their valuables, since they most likely never realized they were gone—so he couldn’t find him on public news sites either.

Technology of the Demon World supposedly surpassed their world, so he managed to purchase access to several online materials from their world that most of the Human World didn’t know existed. It didn’t take very long to find what he was looking for, because most of the news revolved around tournaments of power in Demon World.

A flash of red hair in one of the photographs, and there he was—

Minamino Shuuichi. 

Real name, Kurama.

Kuroro wasn’t as technologically savvy as Shalnark, but he felt a semblance of pride at being able to find this information on his own. Articles from a few years prior detailing the Dark Tournament branded Kurama as a traitor, for he sided with a team consisting of other humans.

So Kurama was a demon. Kuroro contemplated this for a moment, staring at the screen and at the image of the young man with a hardened gaze yet softer features. His eyes reflected the color of timeless forests, his hair brilliant wildfires. And an ancient, bone-deep power was trapped beneath his skin. It was unlike Kuroro to be interested in someone else so intently, outside of wanting to recruit new Spiders for his team, but while humans could intrigue him, demons were even more fascinating.

More recent articles detailed Kurama’s involvement with the Demon World Tournament. But it seemed that after this tournament, he returned to the Human World to continue living a normal life. A demon—pretending to be human? Or rather, a demon inhabiting a human body, unbeknownst to his human family.

Looking up Minamino Shuuichi on a generic search engine found that he was working an entry-level role at Hatanaka Corporation. A typical salaryman, though his father was the head of the company. And it just so happened that their business was expanding overseas to the Kakin Empire.

But consulting Demon World resources on the demon named Kurama allowed Kuroro to delve deeper into his history. Kurama had a reputation as a legendary thief— _Youko_ Kurama they called him—transcending Kuroro’s Spiders when he conquered valuables from all three realms. But nearly twenty years ago, Kurama was forced to retreat to the Human World after a failed heist, fusing his soul with a human child and living within their society ever since. Fate would have it that his connection with Demon World was never severed.

The discovery was fascinating, even if Kuroro felt as though he was doing something dangerously close to stalking. His curiosity urged him to witness Kurama’s power again, even observe his appearance as a full-fledged demon. So, he found a video recording of Kurama’s match from the Dark Tournament finals, and he pressed play.

 

 

 

Kuroro’s subsequent afternoon was spent at a bookstore café, where he found a recently published book on Kakin’s mythology and lore—particularly focused on the fox goddess Huxian and her places of worship. He set down the book on the table after reading several chapters, still not quite understanding why Kurama would come to the shrine when someone of his legacy probably had shrines dedicated to him too.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket to check the time. A few hours had passed since he came here, so he took a step back and considered what he wanted to accomplish with the information he found on Kurama recently.

Perhaps, Kurapika would be interested in knowing his employer’s valuables were disappearing—and not because of Kuroro’s efforts. He hadn’t spoken to Kurapika in a while, and needed a proper excuse as well.

After mulling it over, Kuroro dialed his number. They had exchanged text messages on rare occasions, but he never did call him before. It was the middle of the work day, but Kurapika finally picked up after five rings.

Kuroro didn’t delay in asking. “Do you want to get dinner?”

There was an abrupt pause, followed by an even more unexpected response. 

“Who’s this?”

Kuroro couldn’t fight a faint frown at his cautious tone. Did Kurapika delete his number?

“It’s me.”

“If this is a prank call, I’m hanging up—“

Kuroro straightened up in his seat. “Wait—”

“Yes?” Kurapika’s voice didn’t belie his apparent impatience.

“Wait,” he repeated, almost too quickly. “It’s Kuroro. I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner at Vermillion tonight.”

The restaurant held accolades as one of the most romantic dining experiences in the world, and well, Kurapika didn’t deserve anything less. A long moment of silence stretched between them, and then—

“I already have an appointment there tonight. Sorry.”

And Kurapika hung up on him.

Kuroro stared at his phone screen and how their conversation barely lasted thirty seconds before Kurapika grew tired of speaking to him. Maybe he preferred texting? 

He didn’t know what kind of appointment Kurapika had planned, but regardless, he was making a reservation to find out. It was faintly disappointing that Kurapika wouldn’t be joining him, dashing his expectations like the incident with the ring. If his meeting with Kurama never happened, maybe, just maybe, he would’ve even given Kurapika the ring if he had obtained it as planned. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a barista placing a cup on the table.

“A medium coffee for you, sir.”

Kuroro looked up from his phone, tilting his head curiously. “I don’t believe I ordered anything.”

“A gentleman bought this for you.” She wore a bashful smile, meaning no offense. “Apparently, he overheard you were rejected so he wanted to cheer you up.”

Rejected? 

As in, Kurapika rejecting him?

Kuroro looked at her disbelievingly. Then, he quickly glanced around the café for a familiar face, but found nothing. “He didn’t happen to have red hair, did he?”

“Oooh, how did you know?”

“Ah,” Kuroro said, trying to return a smile of his own. “It’s nothing.”

It made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t feel that familiar aura anywhere in the room. As he brought the paper cup to his lips, he wondered how much more enhanced the hearing of demons were.

The coffee tasted as bitter as he felt that afternoon.

 

 

 

“Is that you? Kuroro?”

Kuroro turned around, finding Bill wearing something other than a black suit for once. He was dressed in a thin sweater and slacks, but over his brow was a wide-brim fedora. 

“How did you know?” Kuroro asked, tilting his sunglasses to expose his eyes and look at Bill from head-to-toe.  “What are you even wearing?”

“I recognized your earrings right away. Also, I don’t think you have any right to be judging me when you look like a mafioso.”

Kuroro let out a quiet sigh. If he was going to keep an eye on Kurapika during tonight’s dinner, he needed a subtle disguise. All he was wearing was a simple suit coupled with sunglasses. While he was indoors.

If Bill still recognized him, then maybe he should’ve worn something less subtle. 

 “Do you have dinner plans too?” Kuroro regarded him with a blank stare. ”Or, perhaps you’re the one meeting Kurapika?”

“What? No, no.” Bill made a defensive gesture. “I am here for Kurapika, but I just didn’t want him to be alone in case his date didn’t go well. He actually doesn’t know I’m here but—how did _you_ know about him?”

Kuroro went silent. 

Bill’s eyes widened with recognition. “Does this mean you’re here for Shuuichi then?”

“Huh?” 

What an intelligible response. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with Shuuichi—”

“Ah, right, that’s why I’m here,” Kuroro answered, registering who Kurapika’s date was. That impossible fox seemed to be everywhere lately. “I’m Minamino Shuuichi’s friend. I suppose we both had similar ideas in mind, following our friends all the way here.”

“Yeah,” Bill answered, laughing bashfully. 

“Looks like they’re coming. Let’s get a table ourselves.”

Kuroro pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose and confirmed the reservation with the restaurant attendant, not giving Bill any space to refuse. He made sure that they sat a few tables away from Kurapika’s table, near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The entire establishment was a glass edifice, boasting high-rise views of the evening cityscape and beyond. The glittering city lights drowned out the stars above.

It would’ve been nice to be sitting across from Kurapika at the table, but not everything always happened as planned.

“So,” Kuroro began to say, as Bill took a sip of water, “how do you and Kurapika know Kura—Shuuichi?”

“We’re in a gardening club together. That’s how Kurapika met him.” Bill’s gaze flicked to where Kurapika was sitting for a moment. “Teaching Kurapika how to tend to plants is really doing wonders for his personality.”

“I’m sure.”

“I mean, look at him. He’s laughing!”

Kuroro turned his head to get a closer look and—God, he really was. 

Not only that, he was _blushing_. 

Kuroro wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but Kurama was definitely charming him. When the waiter wasn’t looking, Kurama presented a closed palm to Kurapika. And as he opened his hand, a crimson rose flowered from its seed, almost as though it came from nothing. 

He offered the rose to Kurapika, who received it with a small smile, his cheeks stained with pink. It was such a gaudy, old-fashioned gesture, but Kurapika seemed to be pleased.

Uneasiness twisted in Kuroro’s stomach. If they referred to him as _Shuuichi,_ then they surely had no idea about Kurama’s true identity. He didn’t know if Kurama would ever be willing to reveal the truth to Kurapika. 

Was Kurapika in any sort of danger here? There were some demons who ate humans, even if most didn’t. And it didn’t reassure him much knowing that Kurama had man-eating plants in his possession.

As Kuroro observed them throughout their dinner, Kurama must have noticed that he was the subject of attention, because his gaze suddenly met Kuroro’s own.

Kuroro immediately spun around in his seat, turning his back to them. He attempted to busy himself with the appetizers, but to no avail.

“Uh,” Bill started to say, “they’re coming over here.”

Kurapika stood beside their table as Kurama waved to the both of them.

“What are you two doing here?” Kurapika frowned, giving them both a questioning look. “Together?”

Kuroro felt as though he was burning beneath Kurapika’s judgment. “Well—” 

“We’re on a date,” Bill blurted out.

Kuroro’s sunglasses slid down an inch, revealing an incredulous expression towards his companion. _What?_

Bill looked panic-stricken. _I have no fucking idea._

Surely, he could have come up with a better story than that.

“Oh…” Kurapika sounded stunned. “Congratulations? This is so unexpected.”

Bill swallowed visibly. “I mean—”

Kuroro placed his hand over the one Bill had resting on the table, even if it made Bill flinch. “Our dinner is going fine. It would’ve been nice if you could join us, Kurapika, but I hope you’re having a good time with Shuuichi here.”

Kurama smiled pleasantly. It was a kind, gentle expression that had no trace of insincerity—charming Kurapika without a doubt. “It’s going quite well. I hope you enjoy your evening as well, Kuroro.” 

As far as Kuroro knew, he never divulged his name to Kurama. Maybe he overheard that as well.

He placed a hand on Kurapika’s shoulder. “Dear, we should head back to our table.”

“Alright.” Kurapika glanced at them, before being led away. “Make sure you tell me about this later, Bill.”

Once Kurapika was out of earshot, Kuroro asked, “You didn’t have a better excuse than that?”

“I was nervous, okay? At least Kurapika looks like he’s having a good time.”

“Yeah,” Kuroro answered absently.

“Shuuichi’s a nice guy, though. He has a stable job, a good family, and he can carry a meaningful conversation with Kurapika. I think he can make Kurapika happy.”

Unconsciously, Kuroro’s grip tightened.

Bill looked down at where their hands still connected. “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand,” Kuroro stated obviously, without a hint of sarcasm. Then, he conjured his Skill Hunter book, guiding Bill’s hand on top of it, much to Bill’s confusion. “I’d like for you to tell me about your Hatsu.”

 

 

 

Kuroro liked to believe that he didn't have much of a petty streak.

He didn’t know how much of this was a coincidence. He could forget about their first encounter, but stealing Kurapika as well? That didn’t sit well with him.

Since the ring was in Kurama’s possession, who knows what would happen if he gave it to Kurapika? Kurama wasn’t the only one who stole from other thieves and if there was something Kuroro was going to do, he was going to take that ring back.

If Kurapika wanted to date Kurama, then fine, he couldn’t control that. But Kurapika should fall for him naturally, and not as a consequence of some otherworldly power that an artifact like the ring possessed. 

Borrowing Bill’s Hatsu was just an added benefit—Kurama wasn’t the only one who could manipulate plants, after all. Kuroro didn’t have enough time to practice using the ability, but he was going to see today how well it would serve him. 

Kuroro discovered that Kurapika’s next date with Kurama would be meeting him for lunch at another restaurant. Lunch here took place beneath a canopy of blossoms, concealing the glass roofing of the restaurant. Lush foliage draped over the wooden walls and flowering vines entwined around the hanging lights. The environment suited Kurama well.

But Kurama didn’t come.

Kuroro sat a farther distance away this time as he observed him. Kurapika had been sitting there for over half an hour, checking his phone and admiring the plant centerpiece on the table, even dismissing the waiter when he asked if he wanted to order yet.

And Kuroro was compelled to do something. He could sweep in and accompany Kurapika for lunch, but he knew for certain that his presence wouldn’t be as well-received as Kurama. 

So Kuroro dragged his fingers over a display of blossoming vines on the adjacent wall, hoping that he could entertain Kurapika for the time being. He had the intention of accelerating the growth of the vines so they could reach Kurapika’s side of the restaurant and drop a flower on his table. 

But the moment his aura flowed into the vines, they transformed into tendrils and surged across the room in sudden growth, shocking the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. They didn’t stop growing, only lengthened rapidly, shattering glass windows and striking wooden tables, and—

Kuroro couldn’t stop them.

He quickly tried to think of other abilities in his Skill Hunter book that didn’t involve arson and burning down the entire restaurant to stop this overgrowth. As civilians ran out the door screaming, Kurapika lashed his chains out at the tendrils consuming their surroundings, doing his best to prevent them from spreading farther.

All of a sudden, the growth ceased. The tendrils receded until they were reduced to their original forms—thin vines adorning the walls and lamps. But the damage had been done.

“I apologize for being late, Kurapika. Work kept me from having my lunch break.”

Kurama removed his hand from the wall, giving Kurapika a soft smile.

“It’s not an issue,” Kurapika murmured, and Kuroro could clearly see the change in his expression the moment Kurama arrived. It was something sweet, something like adoration. 

Kurama pulled him into a polite hug in greeting. “I think we should reschedule, if that’s alright with you. And it would be fine if the owners bill the damages to my company.”

Lastly, he turned to where Kuroro was standing. “I’d like a word with you, please.”

Kuroro let out a breath, ignoring how Kurapika’s gaze fixated on him. “Likewise.”

After a conversation with the owners of the restaurant, Kurama led him to the rooftop of his company’s office in Kakin.

It was a balmy day, with the summer breeze blowing in their direction and tousling their hair. Kuroro was leaning on the railing of the rooftop, his back against it, and faced Kurama as he stood in front of him.

“Kuroro Lucifer.”

“Youko Kurama.”

“So we know a bit about each other,” Kurama said, amusement in his eyes. “I’ve heard certain things about you, mostly from Kurapika, though.”

Kuroro failed to find humor in the situation. “Why are you even interested in Kurapika? I know that I’m older than him, but you’re ancient by comparison.”

Kurama chuckled to himself. “He’s intelligent and very mature. But his reactions are always so endearing when I tease him. Do you mean to interfere with our relationship?”

Kuroro took a moment of contemplation.

“No,” he found himself answering. “No, I don’t think so. But there is something that I want from you.”

“Oh?”

“The ring,” Kuroro explained. “Do you still have it?”

“Ah,” Kurama said softly. “If you want it, it comes with a price.”

“Name it,” Kuroro urged. He could attempt to steal it from Kurama, but he was curious to know what Kurama desired from him first.

“What do you plan on doing with it? Admire it until you grow tired of it and sell it on the black market?”

Kuroro huffed. “I’d like to keep it away from you. That’s all.”

“Hmm.”

Kurama stepped forward, close enough that Kuroro could smell the petals of freshly cut roses caught in his hair. He regarded Kuroro intently, the same kind of scrutiny that a fox might give its prey.

And he did the unthinkable.

Kurama leaned in closer, brought Kuroro’s chin forward with his hand, and closed the distance between them. The sudden taste of mint was as startling as the realization he was kissing Kurama.

Kuroro stepped back, dumbfounded, but there was nowhere else to go but over the railing. He preferred to lead when it came to intimate situations, and this was a first, being pinned down and kissed by—by a _demon_.

Kurama had one hand braced on the railing and kept the other on Kuroro’s face. This wasn’t some kind of challenge or fight, rather, Kurama wanted to tease him—even if meant scraping his teeth against Kuroro’s lips, pressing his tongue against his, making his breath catch in his throat.

Kurama had hundreds of years of experience over him, that was clear, when his knees nearly buckled under him. Still, Kuroro slid his hand into Kurama’s hair, reveling in how soft and feather-light it was beneath his fingers, surprising himself how much he liked the soft sounds Kurama made when he tugged lightly. 

Kurama pulled at Kuroro’s other wrist, feeling his pulse and tracing the lines on his palm with his fingertips.

Then, they parted and caught each other’s gazes.

Kuroro’s breathing was unsteady. “I thought you liked Kurapika.”

“You are a fool, my dear,” Kurama murmured, eyes lowered, “if you think Kurapika’s the only one I’m after.”

“Greedy bastard,” Kuroro muttered, though he was no different.

As Kurama let go of his hand, there was a distinct weight on his finger. He brought his hand up to observe it, finding a silver band on his ring finger. Upon closer observation, the ring was crafted in the form of a silver fox, with two red gems gleaming where their eyes would be.

_Oh._

And when Kuroro looked up again, green eyes weren’t gazing back at him.

They were gold.

 

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Kuroro. 
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seiyunablog) because Tumblr is pretty dead. 
> 
> This won't be the last of this crossover.. Let me know what you think!


End file.
